


The Family Curse

by zechs_merquise



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal deals with his past, Hannibal goes home to Lecter Castle, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Will is a loving husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zechs_merquise/pseuds/zechs_merquise
Summary: Hannibal Lecter goes home to Lecter Castle after he has a nightmare about his past. There he discovers a long kept secret that his parents hid from him during his youth that will change his life forever.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	The Family Curse

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my Ride or Die bestie Maegz, who I continually torture well into the early hours of the morning with headcanons and Murder Husbands spam on tumblr. I love you bitch, stay bloody.

The sun was peeking through the curtains of the bedroom like a child peeking through the door to see if their parents were awake. It was soft and warm. A gentle morning wake up call that had happily become ritual in this new life. The smell of coffee wafted up from the kitchen and the unmistakable sound of multiple feet sounded against the hardwood floors was the soundtrack to his morning.

Hannibal, who used to be an early morning riser, now stretched lazily in bed. He knew he would wake up alone as his lover was still an early riser, in large part due to the dogs who were always awake at the crack of dawn waiting for breakfast. However, the scent of his paramore was still covering the sheets. Hannibal lazily flipped over to the other side of the bed and buried his face into Will’s pillow. He took a long steady inhale of the scent that was ever present on the memory foam headrest. _This was Hannibal’s version of coffee._ The endorphins and serotonin that flooded his system now had him wide awake and ready for anything.

As he sat up in bed, Hannibal recalled his dreams, although it was more a waking nightmare. There were images, flashes of his home. Not the place he currently called home with Will and their two dogs, no. It was of the place that he was born, the rotting corpse that was once Lecter Castle. While he couldn't remember much except for a few flickers of his father’s face and the echo of his father's voice in his ears, the experience had left Hannibal with an unusual hollowness in his chest and a deep seated hunger in the pit of his stomach. 

Hannibal got out of bed and followed the smell of coffee downstairs to the kitchen where he found Will sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. Their dogs Orpheus and Eurydice (Ori and Eury for short) were cuddled up together in the sunlight by the window. Hannibal came up behind Will and kissed the top of his head, “Good morning.” He said with grogginess still lacing his voice. While the rest of his body was wide awake, his voice was still decidedly sleepy. 

Will hummed happily at the morning kiss, “Good morning to you. How did you sleep?” He asked from behind the paper. He waited for an answer but was only met with the sounds of Ori and Eury’s nails clicking against the hardwood as they went over to greet their other father ‘good morning’. The unanswered question hung in the air causing Will to lower his paper and take a good look at the man he loved. Will noticed Hannibal’s features, the heavy bags under his eyes stained with a slight purplish color, “that bad, huh?”

Hannibal only offered a slight nod as he bent down to pet the dogs. “I, uh-” Hannibal began, unsure how to phrase his words for once in his life. Talking about his home and his childhood was always a hard subject for him. Will got up from his chair to come to Hannibal’s side. Finding Hannibal at a loss for words was worrisome for Will since Hannibal always had something to say, he always had to have the last word.

Will sat himself and Hannibal down on the floor, their backs rested against the kitchen counter behind them. He took Hannibal’s hand in his and let his thumb gently massage the back of his lover’s hand, “What happened?” Will’s voice was gentle, trying to ease Hannibal’s troubles.

Hannibal’s eyes met Will’s, finding his paramore’s gaze soft and comforting. “I dreamt of my father.” He finally admitted, “I don’t remember much of the dream itself, save for a few flashes here and there but I remember his face, the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice. It was like he was trying to tell me something but what, I am unsure.” Hannibal’s free hand came to his forehead, resting there as his elbow sought support on his propped up knee.

“Do you have any inclination of what he would want to tell you?” Will was unsure of how to proceed as far as his line of questioning went on this subject as Hannibal so rarely spoke of his childhood. Will recalled his time at Lecter Castle years prior. The conversations and moments he experienced with Chiyoh gave him all the evidence he needed to know that the grounds he walked along were not only cursed but the atrocities that occurred upon them would make even the Devil blush.

“No...but,” Hannibal paused, recalling yet again the empty hollow cavern that occupied his chest. “I have this feeling like I have to go back. Something inside of me is telling me I _need_ to go back.” Hannibal was shocked by his own words. He swore he would never go back. He, himself, would rather be eaten alive than go back there.

The gentle massage of Will’s thumb against the back of Hannibal’s hand froze, “Are you absolutely certain?” He asked cautiously knowing this was already a sensitive subject to begin with.

“Yes… I think I am.” The decision started to become more resound in his chest almost as if it were echoing off the hollow walls of his chest that should already be full and filled to the brim with the happiness of the life he finally had with Will.

Will knew that he would not accompany Hannibal on this journey, as it was a pilgrimage he had to make on his own. However he made sure that Hannibal always had a piece of Will and their life together at all times as he slipped a photo of them and their dogs into his suitcase. 

*

The dark overcast sky, the threat of the rain and the echo of thunder above was the perfect welcome home party that he never wanted. Hannibal stood at the main gate, weary eyes stared upon the ivy and weed covered rod iron bars. He tried to harden his expression, to school his emotions when he pushed the gates open; the ghosts of the past were already waiting for him behind the bars.

His head shook every so often, shaking off the whispers and taunts that floated around him. Memories began to flood back the moment he stepped foot through the threshold of the foyer. The old broken down, cobweb covered chandelier above his head started to transform before his eyes to its former glory; bright, shining and immaculately polished. The very room around him was being thrust back into the past to the way he remembered it as he was a child. The memories of his youth forced their way back at the forefront of his mind, playing out now in front of his eyes as vivid hallucinations.

This sensational journey continued with every step he took into this crypt disguised as a home. Each room he passed, brought him vivid memories that he once repressed: reading with his dear Mischa by the fireplace in the library, teaching her about the world around them and the beautiful histories of the past. While his memories of his mother and father were sparse due to losing them at a young age, he could still recall their features with precise detail. 

The echoes of his father’s voice that was beckoning him back to this place a week ago were now clear and crisp fully formed words in his ears. Hannibal wasn't sure where his feet were carrying him, nor did he know where he would end up until he stopped in front of his father’s office. The whispering ghosts of the past silenced completely the moment his hand grasped the antique brass doorknob.

Count Lecter’s office was a room that Hannibal had only stepped foot in twice in his life. The first time, Hannibal could not recall, even now with all the memories at the forefront of his mind, it was still a haze. _Perhaps he was too young at the time,_ he thought. The second time was after his parents death, when his uncle Robertus had moved into the castle. He and Hannibal covered the furniture and the table with white sheets and shut the door, never to be opened again but, not before Robertus placed the large family signet ring that Count Lecter once wore with pride into the safe behind the painting on the wall next to his father’s desk.

Hannibal gazed at the painting on the wall. It was a beautiful portrait of his mother, Simonetta. He saw some of her features in his face every time he looked in the mirror: the color of his eyes, the shape of the cupid’s bow of his lips and the way his nose crinkles when he smiles. Fingers delicately hover above the portrait before gently removing it from the wall to reveal the safe behind it. He set the portrait down with reverence in honor of his beautiful late mother. 

The safe combination was not hard to guess, as it was his beloved Mischa’s birthday. Hannibal wasn't sure what he expected to find inside aside from the signet ring and it had him more curious than ever. The tumblers of the safe clicked into place with each correct number combination until finally Hannibal turned the handle towards the floor.

Inside, just as expected Hannibal found the signet ring. It bore the Lecter family crest and the sheer size of the ring was still substantial even in Hannibal’s adult hands. Count Lecter was always considered to be a formidable man due to his sheer size: big broad shoulders, large hands that only accentuated his height that was well over six foot. Hannibal recalled the strain in his neck he always had from having to look up at his father. 

Hannibal took the signet ring, his thumb grazed over the raised detailing of the Lecter family crest. An idea popped in his head during that moment. He would take this ring and have it melted down and fashioned into two rings; wedding bands for he and his paramore, Will. They had still yet not settled on their rings even well after their wedding. Hannibal thought this would be a nice thing, almost poetically appropriate. The crest of his family, the symbol of his past, melted down, transformed and fashioned into a symbol of his love and eternal commitment for the man that he wanted to be with forever. The only man to ever know Hannibal Lecter fully, inside and out. He didn’t have to hide his true nature from Will, not like he did when he was younger with his beloved Mischa. Hannibal pocketed the ring, with a smile on his face at the thought of giving Will his new wedding band. 

Hannibal opened the safe door further, investigating what else could be in it. Aside from the signet ring, it was relatively empty apart from what was once a crisp white envelope with Hannibal’s name on it and an antique glass vial next to it. He plucked the envelope from its place in the safe, turning it over and peeling away at the wax Lecter crest seal that was on it. The note was hand written in his father’s strong cursive script and as Hannibal read the note softly to himself, his voice began to change into that of his father’s:

_My son, it is not by chance that you crave humanity in such a dark way. Your mother and I noticed at an early age that you were afflicted with my family's curse. I tried to suppress your nature when you were young but it didn't work as well as I hoped. Inside the vial, contains your true essence. Something that I had removed from you when you were a child but did not have the heart to destroy. I pray by the time you read this, you are old enough to understand how dangerous it can be; how deep the hunger really is. I pray you are smart enough to destroy it in the fire. Forgive me, my child, but if I were a stronger man I would have destroyed the vial along with you long ago but for the sake of your mother, I did neither._

His eyes squinted curiously at the vial as he looked up from the letter. _His true essence_? What could that possibly mean? Hannibal folded the letter and neatly placed it back into its envelope. He took out the vial inspecting it closely. The bottle almost began to pulse in his grip, as if it was calling out to him. It was filled with a dark viscous liquid that was unmistakable and familiar.

He popped the cork of the bottle, smelling the contents to confirm his suspicions: **_blood._ **The scent set his teeth on edge, set every nerve in his body on fire. It had been so long since he had fed upon human flesh. He and Will had promised not to hunt humans as it could raise suspicion and bring the wolves back to their door after the world already thought they were dead.

Hannibal wondered what was so important about this vial of blood. It smelled familiar, like his very own blood that danced through his veins but it was slightly sweeter, _younger_ , as if it had been taken from him at an early age as the letter from his father suggested.

The blood inside called to him, singing to him like a siren at sea. His father’s voice echoed in the back of his head, begging him to destroy it. However, the opera of the blood was more beautiful and exceptionally louder. Hannibal put the vial to his lips and drained the contents. The blood flowed past his teeth, seeping into his gums flowing like a waterfall past his tongue and down his throat.

Divinity was a poor descriptor for the taste. To call it heavenly was almost insulting. Hannibal Lecter had tasted a lot of blood in his lifetime but this was beyond _anything_ he had ever tasted and he had an extremely rich palette. As it drained down his throat, he could feel the hollowness in his chest filling, the hunger in the pit of his stomach becoming full and satisfied. Hannibal was becoming whole.

Hannibal was content for that moment until his chest began to throb, his heart racing and thundering. The pulse in his ears sounded like waves crashing up against a cliff side. He could feel his upper lateral incisors and canine teeth begin to sharpen beyond the norm. The fingers on his hands lengthened slightly, his once blunt, finely manicured nails became pointed and vicious. He began to stumble around his father’s office when he came to the window. He came face to face with his reflection, his eyes filled entirely with a blood red color, only to glaze over and darken completely into black soulless pits. He fell to his knees, his fingers dug into the floor beneath him, scraping and pulling at the old splintered hardwood. Hannibal couldn't stop the animalistic roar that ripped from his throat: the sound was likened to a wild animal finally being set free. Suddenly, everything went black.

He awoke hours later on the floor in front of the window. The moonlight acted as a blanket, covering his form completely. Hannibal, slightly groggy, inspected his hands. They had returned to the blunt nails he was familiar with. His tongue felt along the upper teeth, not unusually sharp or long. _Was it a fever dream_? _Did he imagine it all because he hadn't eaten in so long_? Hannibal wasn't entirely sure. As he left his home behind for the last and final time, he noticed that his senses seemed heightened and his pulse was slow, too slow, but he felt happy and complete. There were no ghosts haunting him when he walked down the hall this time. No whispered taunts pulling at his ears. He saw the castle for what it was, broken down and drafty. Now only the thought of Will and returning home to him and their dogs was on his mind which caused his lips to form a near permanent smile.

Hannibal’s ears sang with the sound of the rain falling from the sky. He felt the wetness from the heavens above showering him as if the water that fell was baptizing him, permanently washing away the past and making way for his fresh new future with his husband. 

Elsewhere on the Lecter Castle grounds, in a warmly lit room, Chiyoh, the keeper of Hannibal’s past, lay on her bed. Her limbs were now rigid with rigor mortis in defensive positions. Hours earlier she had heard the roar of a wild animal somewhere close by inside the house. She had gone to investigate only to find the twisted shell of Hannibal on his knees staring at her from the floor. The monster before her held her gaze for what seemed like an eternity when it had been only seconds. She ran, ran hard, back to her room to find a more appropriate weapon in which to defend herself but she was not fast enough. 

Hannibal set upon her, yanking at her limbs and pulling her to the bed. Chiyoh looked deep into the fully black eyes of her old friend, the man she protected for so long, and saw her own reflection staring back at her. She knew she was going to die.

Hannibal’s lips greedily latched onto her neck, seeking out her jugular artery with the utmost precision. His teeth pierced her flesh and fireworks exploded in his mouth. He knew he would never tire of this feeling, this taste that was more exquisite than the finest wine in the world. He could taste everything about her: her age, her memories, her emotions, he could even taste every single meal she had ever eaten. It was an extraordinary sensation that was beyond words. He wouldn’t remember his first feed until much later when it haunted his dreams. However, it was a permanent memory seared into Chiyoh’s stiff body, that was now left to rot along with the rest of Lecter Castle.

*

Ori and Eury alerted Will that someone was at the front door, and he knew it could only be one person. He happily greeted Hannibal with a tight hug and a kiss after being separated for more than a week. While Will had been wrought with worry the entire time, he knew Hannibal would keep his promise to always come back to him. 

Hannibal felt cold to the touch as Will pulled out of their happy embrace, he noted that Hannibal looked about two shades paler. “How did it go? Are you feeling alright?” Will asked, touching Hannibal’s forehead. Hannibal grabbed Will’s hand and kissed his palm lovingly several times, “It went as well as expected, but I feel better, more sure of myself.” He offered Will a warm and confident smile.

Will took the offered smile as an assurance that his lover was fine. He pulled him into the kitchen where Will had already started making dinner. “I was just finishing cutting up the vegetables if you want to help.” he stated before going back to his cutting board. Hannibal nodded but before he knelt down and showed Orpheus and Eurydice some affection. He was washing his hands, preparing himself to help with dinner when a sharp pungent smell filled his nostrils, causing his mouth to completely fill with saliva. The sound of Will sucking in a breath echoed in Hannibal’s ear.

“ _Shit._ ” Will whispered, looking at his now bleeding fingertip. He grabbed the nearest dishcloth and covered his finger trying to staunch the bleeding when Hannibal came to his side. Will couldn’t see his husband's eyes as his face was bent and focused on Will’s cloth covered finger. 

Hannibal carefully unwrapped Will’s finger. The blood that had already dried, stained around the wound but the wound itself was still pulsating with blood. Hannibal could feel itching under his skin, like something was crawling to the surface. He brought the finger to his mouth where he licked and sucked away his paramore's blood that he greedily offered himself. He could feel his teeth begin to sharpen around Will’s finger. There was a knocking sensation against Hannibal’s skull, urging him to stop that he quickly listened to. He released the delicious treat from his lips and led Will to the bathroom where he could properly clean and bandage the cut.

Will studied Hannibal in the bathroom as his husband tended to his cut, there was a moment only seconds ago where he could have sworn Hannibal’s eyes were black but he played it off a trick of the light. “There, all better.” Hannibal announced breaking Will’s thoughtful trance, “now, why don't I finish cooking, you rest.”

Will nodded silently in agreement. He sat in the living room, Ori and Eury at his feet, reading as Hannibal worked his magic in the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, Hannibal announced that dinner was ready and stood at the table, waiting with Will’s chair pulled out, being ever the gentleman that he was. Once they were both comfortably seated, they toasted to Hannibal’s return. Will took his first bite, “I hope you're hungry.” He said as he swallowed his food.

Hannibal gave a warm loving smile to the love of his life and responded with a simple, “ **I’m starving**.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
